


Allies

by INMH



Series: The Fruits of Mercy [3]
Category: The Order: 1886
Genre: (IT'S CANON ALRIGHT?), Bilingual, Copious French, Crushes, Drama, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Post-Game(s), Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Grayson formally introduces Lafayette to Lakshmi.





	Allies

**[-The Fifteenth of April, 1887-]**  
  
The Rebels returned to the city in small groups of no less than two, but no more than three people. When possible, men and women were sent together in disguise to pass as spouses or siblings or parents and children.  
  
Being the high-profile targets that they were, Grayson, Lakshmi and Devi returned to the city under the cover of night and stuck to the shadows, moving through London as though they expected to be apprehended at a moment’s notice.  
  
“Martial Law’s been lifted, but the Order and the police are still on high alert,” Lakshmi had told him as they’d prepared to re-enter the city. “Any suspicious activity could be reported.” She’d smiled grimly and said, “Of course, after living under Martial Law for two months, there are rumors that citizens are less than pleased with the Order and police as they could be.”  
  
“Even after the Agamemnon incident?” Grayson couldn’t deny that, for all the fellowship he had with Lakshmi and the Rebels now, he was still bitter about the Agamemnon and Perceval’s death- as well as the fact that the Rebels had placed innocent lives at risk in order to destroy the Vampiric cargo the Agamemnon was carrying.  
  
“Yes,” Lakshmi had responded with her usual aplomb, “Even after the Agamemnon incident.”  
  
Now they snuck through the alleyways of Whitechapel, occasionally hopping onto the rooftops and peering down into the paths ahead to make sure they were clear. They encountered an increased police presence, but no Knights, and no other indicator that they were expected. Devi had run ahead to the _Aux Belles Muses_ to ensure that there wasn’t any sort of ambush waiting for them, and they were waiting for her a few blocks away.  
  
A light rain had started falling, and Grayson and Lakshmi stood under the eave a roof as they waited.  
  
“Did you have anything in particular planned once we’ve settled in?” He asked her. “Any particular course of action you wanted to take?”  
  
Lakshmi thought for a moment, dark eyes blinking against the splatters of water that the roof couldn’t shield them from. “Hastings,” She said slowly, “Is the main priority. We know now that your friend-” She looked at Grayson out of the corner of her eye, “-was an associate of his, which would explain how he knew so much about the Order’s movements and how to manipulate the system.” She drummed her fingers against her folded arms. “Your- Sir Lucan, was it? Does he mean to return to the Order?”  
  
“No. He planned on joining the other Lycans and staying with them. The Lord Chancellor knows of his betrayal and would never allow him to rejoin their ranks- and even if he did, he’d never trust him with any privileged information again.” He couldn’t recall if he’d told Lakshmi any of this already; he’d been careful to avoid any mention of Alastair since they’d parted ways outside of the city.  
  
“That’s good.” Lakshmi nodded. “It means that Hastings had just lost an ally amongst the people tasked with hunting his kind down. Without Lucan he’ll lose his edge on them and us.”  
  
“I wouldn’t presume that just yet,” Grayson warned. “The Lord Chancellor knows about Alastair-” At her frown, he clarified, “-Alastair is Lucan’s given name. Lucan is simply a title he inherited, as I did from Sir Galahad. But the Lord Chancellor doesn’t know about Hastings.”  
  
“Why not?” Lakshmi pressed. “Weren’t you arrested for ‘attacking’ him?”  
  
“I was,” Grayson sighed, crossing his arms as well, “But there was no point in telling my side of the story. Alastair’s word weighed heavier than mine, and…” He winced, carefully editing himself before the words in his mind could reach his mouth. “…And another Knight saw me with you the night we went to Blackwall. I didn’t tell anyone about my initial suspicions or findings beyond Alastair and the Lord Chancellor, so to everyone else I seemed erratic and suspicious. No one would have listened, so I didn’t bother.”  
  
Lakshmi stared at him for a long time. “That’s not what I expected of you, Knight,” She said quietly. “You simply sat there and accepted their false accusations, their judgment, without speaking up?”  
  
She didn’t sound angry- she sounded disappointed. And sad.  
  
He couldn’t blame her for being alarmed by it; from the moment they’d met in the _Aux Belles Muses_ Grayson had been up-front and aggressive in his search for the truth, demanding answers from Lakshmi and snapping at her when she’d been evasive. Clearly she had gotten the impression that he was a man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when it needed to be spoken.  
  
And while it was true that he’d known he wouldn’t be believed, that hadn’t been Grayson’s only reason for not speaking up: He’d been thoroughly demoralized by Alastair’s betrayal and Isabeau’s coldness towards him. He simply hadn’t had the willpower to fight a battle he knew he would lose; and perhaps, in some degree, he’d been afraid to incite Isabeau’s rage further by accusing her brother of lycanthropy and sedition.  
  
Now the Chancellor knew the truth, and nothing had changed.  
  
“Rani!”  
  
Devi reappeared, speeding around the corner so quickly she stumbled and nearly fell over. Lakshmi straightened, alert. “What is it?”  
  
Devi’s eyes jumped between Grayson and Lakshmi, but her gaze lingered on Grayson. “It’s… One of the Knights.”  
  
Now Grayson was on high alert, a shudder running down his back. The last thing he wanted right now was a confrontation with a member of the Order. “Who?”  
  
“Perceval.”  
  
For a moment Grayson’s heart stopped, hundreds of years of being Sebastien Malory’s apprentice and partner flashing through his mind as he processed the implications of that name. But then his heart dropped as he remembered that, of course, ‘Perceval’ now meant ‘Lafayette’; his old friend had not in fact returned from the grave.  
  
Lakshmi seemed to be following a similar line of thought. “ _Not_ the same Knight killed on the Agamemnon?”  
  
Grayson shook his head. “His successor.” He paused. “He came with me to the brothel the day you chased us out. And he was there again the night I went to retrieve Tesla from Westminster- he said that as long as I was in the pursuit of worthy goals he didn’t intend to be my enemy.”  
  
“You trust him?” Lakshmi inquired warily.  
  
“With my life.”  
  
“The last time you said that, it ended badly for all of us, but _especially_ you,” Lakshmi pointed out flatly.  
  
Grayson winced again. He _had_ said something like that to her the night they had broken into the Company House, and it had backfired so spectacularly that he almost felt like laughing about it now. “This is different,” He said. “Lafayette hasn’t been with us nearly as long as Alastair was. He’s barely over a hundred years old.”  
  
“Oh, only barely?” Lakshmi remarked, and Grayson remembered that she herself wasn’t even in her sixties yet.  
  
“My point,” Grayson pushed, “Is that we’re certain he’s not a Lycan or Vampire. I helped to train him. I trust him.”  
  
Lakshmi exchanged a look with Devi, who looked apprehensive. But then she sighed. “If you’re wrong again, Knight, I will trust no more of your old friends.”  
  
“And I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest.”  
  
[---]  
  
The brothel was empty when they returned, save for two guards by the door and the lone figure standing at the table in the corner, the same he’d been standing near the night Grayson had returned to Westminster. Though he felt some apprehension about this meeting, Grayson was comforted by the fact that Lafayette was not a difficult man to talk to, a reasonable man with a good sense of diplomacy.  
  
But then, Grayson also found that the Marquis was far more agreeable when it came to beautiful women, and Lakshmi was quite beautiful, so the conversation would probably go well.  
  
He saw the small, tell-tale spark in Lafayette’s eye when they approached the table; damn, but the man was predictable. “Galahad,” He said, warmly, “I’m glad to see you alive and well.”  
  
“Likewise, Marquis.” Grayson stepped forward and clasped Lafayette’s arm. For all that had transpired, between them or otherwise, he didn’t see any hostility or wariness in Lafayette’s eyes, and he was grateful for it. Grayson turned and gestured to Lakshmi. “This is Lakshmi Bai, the leader of the Rebellion.”  
  
Lakshmi stepped forward, not smiling, but with a civil, professional expression. Lafayette smiled at her, and there was a flash of that spark again. “ _Madame,_ ” The Marquis bowed lowly and kissed her hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your lovely acquaintance.”  
  
Grayson could tell that Lakshmi was barely holding it together, corners of her lips convulsing with amusement. He was too, for that matter. “The Marquis de Lafayette, I presume?” She inquired.  
  
“ _Oui_.”  
  
“I see. _Un plaisir de vous rencontrer aussi, Monsieur._ ”  
  
The Marquis’s jaw dropped.  
  
“I didn’t know you spoke French,” Grayson remarked.  
  
“I speak it passably,” Was Lakshmi’s modest response as the three of them sat down at the table. “But I do wonder, Marquis, why it is you’ve chosen to seek us out tonight of all nights?”  
  
Lafayette’s expression sobered a little. “I was curious, _Madame,_ to see the people our dear Galahad has chosen to work with.” He said it without bitterness or suspicion or any references to the Rebels’ previous actions, and Grayson suspected that the Marquis might actually, genuinely be able to charm Lakshmi without trying to; he’d learned thus far that she was a woman who appreciated transparency, and the Marquis was as transparent as a man could be without crossing the line into stupidity. “And confess that I am also curious to know the explanation behind that exquisite- if you’ll pardon my language- _clusterfuck_ that took place last year?”  
  
Lakshmi looked to Grayson; apparently he would be the one to explain said clusterfuck to the Marquis. “The short of it, Marquis,” Grayson sighed, “Is that Lord Hastings is a Vampire- he was the one killing those women in Whitechapel- and he was attempting to ship Vampires to the Americas via the Agamemnon. Right before I was arrested, Lakshmi and I burned down a warehouse full of cargo that contained sleeping Vampires.”  
  
Lafayette was staring at him, wide-eyed. “ _Pardon_ , Galahad, I heard ‘Lord Hastings is a Vampire’ and I’m afraid I’m still stuck on that point. Are there any other half-breeds hiding in plain sight that I should know about?”  
  
Grayson was silent for a tick too long, and he felt Lakshmi’s gaze boring into the side of his head. “Yes, actually.”  
  
Lafayette’s eyes rolled shut. “I was _joking_ , Grayson!”  
  
“Yes, well, this bit’s important to understand how everything happened,” Grayson said. “But Lafayette, you mustn’t repeat this to anyone in the Order. If you do, you’ll end up the same way I did, except they’ll probably kill you faster so you don’t have a chance to escape.”  
  
The Marquis looked downright horrified now. “What do you mean by that?”  
  
“I mean that…” Grayson rubbed his eyes. “It was Alastair. He’s a Lycan. He was helping Hastings with the half-breed plot. Now the Chancellor knows it as well, and he opted for me to kill Lucan and disappear into the night because he feared the truth would cause the Order to fall apart.”  
  
Now Lafayette’s mouth was hanging open. Lakshmi calmly got up, walked over to the bar, and returned with three glasses and as many bottles of absinthe, which she offered to the Marquis. “ _Merci_ ,” Lafayette muttered, still staring at Grayson as he tried to find the cup and dump some alcohol into it. Once he had, he downed the glass in one shot and immediately refilled it. “So you… You _did_ kill Lucan?”  
  
Grayson swallowed thickly, now deliberately avoiding his and Lakshmi’s eyes. “No. Lucan is still alive, and by now is probably with whatever Lycans are left in London, if any.” He hesitated. “Is that what you were told? That I killed him?”  
  
“Not in so many words,” Lafayette whispered, rubbing his temple with one hand and downing another full glass in one go. “We went to the laboratory, investigated, and found some of Lucan’s clothing shredded on the floor and covered in blood.” He frowned. “I suppose in retrospect I’ve no idea if the scene had been tampered with or not. But there was so much _blood_ , and Lucan and Tesla were missing, and there were reports that you were in the catacombs. There was no way to be sure with no bodies, but…” Lafayette shrugged uneasily. “You know how it looks, _Monsieur._ ”  
  
“Tesla is alive and well,” Lakshmi assured the Marquis. “He left for America after escaping London. He was assisting the Rebellion, and Lucan found out.” She looked pointedly to Grayson. “ _That_ is where the blood came from: Grayson and Lucan fought after Lucan attempted to kill Tesla.”  
  
Grayson knew an accusation when he heard one, and that sounded like an accusation- _How could you help Lucan after what he did to Tesla?_ And Grayson couldn’t have explained it to her satisfaction if he tried, so he ignored the jab and moved on. “It’s all true, Marquis.”  
  
“ _Mon dieu._ My head hurts.”  
  
“That may be the absinthe,” Lakshmi supplied.  
  
“No, no,” Lafayette returned, tone becoming more cynical, with an edge of hysteria, “No, this is the familiar headache I get when things go _completement à la merde._ ”  
  
“ _Pas tout à fait à merde, Marquis. Pas encore._ ”  
  
Alright, now Grayson was certain that Lafayette had charmed her, because it sounded as though Lakshmi was flirting with him. She wouldn’t be using French if she weren’t- and not in that tone.  
  
 _My God, the man’s a bloody miracle-worker. Even Isabeau didn’t-_  
  
It felt as though someone had dumped a cup of ice down the back of Grayson’s jacket, and he turned to the Marquis.  
  
“Lafayette,” He whispered. “What of Isabeau?”  
  
The Marquis’s eyes rolled shut, and he went to fill another glass before Lakshmi pulled the bottle away from him. “Anymore and we’ll be dumping your unconscious body on Westminster’s doorstep,” She said.  
  
“You promise?” Lafayette responded dully.  
  
“Marquis,” Grayson pressed, wanting and not wanting to hear the answer. But he had to know; it would keep him up at night if he was uncertain.  
  
Lafayette groaned. “She is… Livid, Grayson. Livid. She was angry enough before, when she thought you a traitor, but now that she thinks you’re complicit in Lucan’s disappearance and likely death…” He shrugged, wincing. “She’s ready to kill you on sight.”  
  
“What, was she his lover?” Lakshmi asked.  
  
“His sister,” Grayson corrected darkly. “As well as my student, and our colleague for many years.”  
  
“And now she wants to murder him,” Lafayette said with false cheer. “And me as well, if she ever finds out that we’ve had this conversation, or that I pulled my punches when you escaped.”  
  
“As informative as this is, this all beggars the question as to where your… _Priorities_ lie,” Lakshmi inquired delicately. “Our dear Grayson has assured me that your intentions are pure.”  
  
“I would like to think so,” Lafayette sighed.  
  
“Then you should know,” Lakshmi continued, “That the aims of the Rebellion are, for the time-being, almost exclusively dedicated to preventing Lord Hastings and his ilk from committing any more atrocities. And while others may quibble terminology, the Rebellion is not committed to _anarchy_. I better than most understand the necessity for a strong government.” Her eyebrow arched. “But it must be a just government.”  
  
“On that we agree, _Madame_ ,” Lafayette said with a nod. “Lafayette has fought in the American and French Revolutions. I am an advocate of a just and reasonable government.” He frowned. “Which is why I joined the Order. I believed they were on the path of righteousness, though now I find myself deeply concerned if we have not fallen prey to the egos of our leaders.”  
  
“Wouldn’t be the first time a group or government fell to that,” Grayson grumbled into his drink.  
  
Lafayette’s gaze slid to Grayson. “And you endorse this movement, my friend?”  
  
“I do,” Grayson responded heavily. “Lakshmi is a capable leader, and I’m content that the Rebellion’s intentions are good.” He paused. “And conversely, while the individual Knights of the Order may be good, there is too much dishonesty and obfuscation to trust the long-term goal now.”  
  
“Sounds about right, _Monsieur_ ,” Lafayette sighed. He reached for a drink, and then seemed to remember that Lakshmi had taken his absinthe. After a moment’s pause Lafayette turned and stole Grayson’s bottle, lifting it to his lips and swallowing nearly half of it. “I am happy of be of what assistance I can be. Though I cannot say I am delighted with what could happen if I’m caught.”  
  
“If two Knights ‘turn’ on the order in under a year, the Council may be forced to ask more questions,” Grayson responded.  
  
“Not if Lady Igraine cuts my throat, or laces me with thermite and shoots me,” Lafayette retorted ruefully.  
  
“If she gives you trouble, come to us,” Lakshmi said in a voice that was both honest and amused. “We won’t let her kill you.”  
  
Lafayette managed a charming (and drunken) smile for her. “ _Merci_ , _Madame._ I confess any activities with the Rebellion appeal to me, so long as I get to work with you.”  
  
Lakshmi’s smile was more reserved, but no less sincere. “I look forward to it, Marquis.”  
  
“You should probably head back to Westminster, unless you want Isabeau becoming suspicious of you,” Grayson suggested. If Lafayette was truly intent on subverting the Order to help the Rebellion against Lord Hastings, then he would have to be careful not to do anything unusual or suspicious; if he was right about Isabeau’s current disposition, she would sniff him out in a heartbeat.  
  
“You are right, Monsieur,” Lafayette stood unsteadily, and he blinked against the candlelight of the room. “I wish you a good night, _Madame_ , and hope to see you again soon,” He cooed to Lakshmi.  
  
“Very well,” She said with a small smile. “ _Bonne nuit,_ Marquis.”  
  
“I’ll walk you out,” Grayson offered, putting a hand on Lafayette’s arm and gently leading him to the door even as he turned back a few times to wave to Lakshmi. They stepped outside, and the Marquis turned to him.  
  
“ _Monsieur_ , I think I’m in love,” Lafayette purred, stumbling slightly on the brothel’s steps.  
  
“Careful, Marquis,” Grayson warned lightly. “She bites even harder than Isabeau.”  
  
“I like bite,” Lafayette responded enthusiastically. “Bite is good.”  
  
Grayson chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you charmed her like you did,” He muttered. “Normally she’s tougher than that.”  
  
“I have spent years honing my craft, Grayson,” Lafayette supplied as he tried to orient himself on the street. “My Adrienne and I had a long and adventurous love affair, and I know how to make a woman happy.” Grayson was surprised- Lafayette so rarely mentioned his wife or children (all of whom were now dead). It must have been the alcohol. “But Grayson, my friend…” Lafayette’s gaze sobered a little. “You meant what you said? You trust these people? And Lakshmi?”  
  
“I do…” Grayson said slowly. “For now, as long as their attention is on Lord Hastings and any other corrupt elements of the Order or the British government. I haven’t forgotten the Agamemnon, Lafayette, or Sebastien.”  
  
Lafayette’s expression was sad. “Nor have I.”  
  
Grayson smiled bleakly and clapped the Marquis’s shoulder. “Are you alright to get home safely, my friend?”  
  
“Of course, of course,” Lafayette assured him, swatting his hand away. “I am not so drunk. I have been worse off before and gotten home fine.” He grinned at Grayson. “But God, I am glad to know your mind better now, Grayson. I never thought you a traitor of the malicious sort, of course-”  
  
Grayson held up a hand. “I understand, Lafayette. The mind wanders and questions- that’s a good thing. Perc- Sebastien would approve.”  
  
“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve hardly settled into the title anyway,” Lafayette sighed at Grayson’s slip. “Perceval was Perceval for six-hundred years; I am but Lafayette. And I will be the late Lafayette if I don’t go now. Goodbye, my friend- I am glad we find ourselves firmly on the same side once more.”  
  
“As am I, Lafayette,” Grayson sighed as he stepped back into the shadow of the brothel. “As am I.”  
  
He watched, more out of a sense of protectiveness than anything else, as Lafayette went off down the narrow alley and disappeared into the mist of the night. It was surreal, really, to think of the Marquis returning to Westminster; Grayson could, with such startling clarity, remember the sights, the sounds, the smells of the building, the feeling of being there amongst friends and colleagues.  
  
And there was something remarkably painful about knowing he would likely never experience any of those things again.  
  
“Grayson?” Lakshmi had opened the door a crack, and was looking out at him. “Is everything alright?”  
  
He didn’t respond for a moment, still staring at where Lafayette had disappeared and hoping he got back safely. “I’m fine,” He finally said. “Lafayette is on his way. Everything is fine.”  
  
Lakshmi tilted her head to the side. “I’m not sure I believe that,” She remarked, “But fine. Come inside before you get arrested, Knight.”  
  
“I’ll be there in a moment.”  
  
In the meantime, Grayson shut his eyes and tried to absorb this moment of calm.  
  
There likely wouldn’t be another one like it for a while.  
  
 -End


End file.
